The true story of the Philosopher's Stone. Follow Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety in his attempts to wreck havok on the English b#$%#@s who rule his homeland. Involves shot owls, terrorists!Hufflepuffs and explosions. Lots of explosions

Note: If you haven't worked it out from the
title, the main character's name, the category this is stored under or even the
premise, this is a parody. It does not reflect my opinions on a lot of things
(except the Northern Ireland conflict - in my opinion that is pretty damn
stupid) and should not be taken seriously, unless you really want to that is.

You could say that this story started with an
owl bearing a letter. You'd be wrong though. Then again, what more should I
expect? After all, you have never had to suffer centuries of having the dictatorial
British bastards rule every aspect of your life. If you had, I'm sure you'd see
it my way.

Anyway, my name is Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety.
I used to be a junior member of the IRA, and my adult membership is pending,
depending on the success of this mission. And what is this mission? To bring
the imperial British to their knees so they'll stop ruling my homeland,
Northern Ireland.

The story actually started with an owl being
shot out of the sky.

*

"Oi, Self! Get over here!" my father
roared from the other end of the gutted car. "Some bloody bird has a
letter for you!" I clambered over from the boot into the front seat, where
I was confronted with the corpse of an owl. Sure enough, there was a letter
addressed to me.

Selfinsertion
O'Bugger-Subtlety

Boot
of gutted car

Belfast

Northern
Ireland

I opened the letter, eyebrows going to my
hairline.

"Hey dad, some crackpot reckons that I'm a
wizard," I commented. My father grunted as he watched his watch. The expected explosion rocked the car a few
moments later.

"Reilly," my father spat.
"Absolutely no sense of timing whatsoever. Couldn't he wait until after
mine went off?"

"He's running off the cathedral
clock," I replied absently as I continued to read my prank letter.
"You know it's fast."

"Everyone knows it's fast!" my father
retorted. "We all manage to subtract five minutes however." The car
was rocked with yet another explosion. It was much bigger this time, suggesting
the use of more then one explosive.

"Yes dad," I replied, having heard it
all before. In fact, I was the one who used to present explosives lectures to
the Junior IRA, but to hear dad talk, he's the only person who knows how to
make and use them.

"Anyway, what's this?" my father
demanded, snatching my letter out of my hand. I considered fighting him for it
but decided against it. It wasn't as if I hadn't read it yet.

"Hogwarts? Did you send off for something
again Self?" my father asked irately. "I keep telling you, the car is
not a valid postal address!"

"No dad. Someone sent it here all by
themselves," I replied. "It's not uncommon for people to send
letters, you know. "

"But without a letter bomb?" my
father blurted, horrified. "How can that be?" I shrugged.

"Maybe they're really crap at them, or
just forgot." My father looked suitably horrified at such a suggestion.

"Anyway, they want you to reply via owl as
soon as possible," my father added. We both looked at the owl corpse. This
could be difficult.

*

As it turned out, it wasn't so difficult,
because they kept sending more owls. It was hard getting one through all the
cross-fire though. This particular owl
had a footnote on it, a rather snide one too if you ask me.

ps.
Would you please refrain from shooting the owls. It's become almost impossible
to encourage one to go anywhere near you now.

"Rude blighters," my father
commented. I nodded in agreement.

"Must be English," he added sagely. I
nodded again. Only the English would be that stupid. "Come to think on it,
I have an idea."

"What's that dad?"

"Well, I've been doing a bit of research,
and this Hogwarts place is like the bastion of magical Britain. So if we really
wanted to make an impact, we'd have to blow Hogwarts sky high. Only thing is,
you're the only one that can do it. Up to it Self?"

"What's in it for me?"

"Apart from getting one step closer to
liberating our land? I'll see about full IRA membership."

"Really? Cool!" With this incentive,
I quickly wrote a message on the back of the envelope and sent the owl on it's
way. It nipped at my fingers and looked as if it would rather gnaw off my hand
then go back out there. Too bad. It was going out there if I had to drag it
out, shoot it full of adrenaline and laugh as it flew around in circles.

*

After reading all about it, I was not impressed
by Platform 9 and 3/4's. A small boy with a lightning scar on his forehead
approached me along the platform. It was time to introduce myself.

At the last minute I stuck out my foot and
watched him fall. Other children gave me mixed looks. A blond boy approached
me.

"My name is Malfoy," said the stuck up
little no-life. "What's yours?"

"O'Bugger-Subtlety," said I.
"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety. I call myself Self for short." The
little English prat looked somewhat confused at this.

"What do your friends call you?" he
demanded. I shrugged.

"What is a friend?" I asked, somewhat
puzzled. In my experience, people fell into three categories; members of the
IRA, the police and traitors who sold us out to the police. Depending on which category was calling me,
it was either Self, You Little Bastard, or Are You a Nice Boy Who Will Tell Me
Things? Somehow I didn't think it was the last two.

"You know, people who like you,"
Malfoy prompted. Nope, still had no clue. This conversation was getting boring.

"Call me Self," I said dismissively
as I walked away. As I walked, I knocked over some girl with bushy hair. Her
hair gave me a death stare. Or was that her? It's hard to tell under all that
hair. Anyway, she crashed to the ground and called me a few names. I wasn't all
that worried. I'd heard worse from my father after Reilly screwed up. She soon
shut up after I walked away.

Finally the train whistle blew, and I dived
onto the train to search for an empty carriage. If the wizarding world was
typified by the three moronic individuals I had just met, then I doubt that I
would ever want to associate with them. Unfortunately I was subjected to three
little brats. They told me their names when they invaded my area. I immediately
christened them Dopey, Grumpy and Sleepy, and referred to them as such for the
rest of the train trip.

"Hey, Selfinsertion, have you seen my
toad?" Dopey asked. I scowled at him over my book.

"No, Dopey, I haven't. And even if I had,
I wouldn't tell you. If you're stupid enough to lose a toad, then that's your
look out." Dopey's face crumpled and I mentally smiled. Another job well
done. Dopey ran out of the carriage, closely followed by Grumpy. Unfortunately
Sleepy remained in the carriage for the rest of the trip.

When the train stopped, I turned off all the
lights in the carriage and left Sleepy behind. She should have stayed awake, so
I could have chased her out. Oh well. She'll learn. When she wakes up on the
return trip to Kings Cross Station.

Some giant thing bellowed that all first years
should go to him. Not likely. I've heard all about hazing, and there is no way
I'm going in there defenseless. My father packed some little surprises in my
bag, but first I had to get to them.

I got caught up in the rush of second to
seventh years and was propelled toward some carriages. Shrugging, I climbed
aboard one with two students wearing green and silver.

"Who the hell are you?" one demanded.
"You're not in Slytherin."

"He's not in any house, Flint. We got
ourselves a firstie. Didn't you hear the giant?" the other asked. I
shrugged again.

"I don't trust him." This seemed to
be the correct response. Both students relaxed.

"I like you kid. What's your name?"

"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety," I
replied. "What's yours?"

"Marcus Flint."

"Christopher Avery. So what's in the
bag?" I quickly closed the bag, having ascertained that my more illicit
belongings hadn't been confiscated.

"Just stuff to blow up Hogwarts. You know,
the usual," I replied ingenuously. The two Slytherins laughed.

"Wish we'd thought of that in first
year," Avery commented in between snickers.

Our conversation was rudely interrupted when
one of the teachers rapped loudly on the carriage door.

"Selfinsertion O'Bugger-Subtlety? Get out
here and stop playing games!" a shrill woman's voice cut into the
carriage. Both Slytherins winced.

"It's McGonagall," Avery hissed.

"Quick, hide him under the chair!"
Flint whispered.

"Accio Selfinsertion!" McGonagall
chanted. I swore loudly as I slammed heavily into the carriage wall. The door
slammed open and McGonagall dragged me outside.

"Of all the things! Running away from
Hagrid, hiding with those two, of all people! You have not made a very good
start Mister O'Bugger-Subtlety." I stopped listening after a while. Unlike
my father or O'Connell, McGonagall was rather repetitive in her ranting.

She practically threw me onto a boat and
stormed off. I glared sullenly at the other two occupants of the boat, two
girls that glared back at me.

"Who do you think you are?" one
asked, a snobby girl with wispy blonde hair demanded. "We've been waiting
forever for you!"

"I know exactly who I am," I replied
coolly. "Unfortunately, if you need help in that department, I can't be of
use. Sorry."

The other girl gasped and her fists clenched.

"Oh, and before I forget, silencio!" The trip was nice and
quiet after that. Of course McGonagall was not happy about removing the charm
and the detention that she issued wasn't going to be fun, but it was worth it.

After the detention was sorted out, we were
walked into the Great Hall. It wasn't that great. In fact it just looked like a
huge room full of students. Much like school back home.

The hat started to sing, and I tuned it out. It
was easy, after all, my older sister Mary was much louder then that.

"Now when I call out your name, you will
put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," McGonagall recited. I
prepared myself for a long wait.

And it was.

"O'Bugger-Subtlety, Selfinsertion!"
she called out finally, almost drowned out by the cheers from the Slytherin
table. I think I like them. I rolled my eyes at her. She looked affronted. The
cheers doubled.

I placed the hat on my head and waited.

"Now you won't be a problem at all to
sort," the hat mused. "It's clear cut where you go."

"And where's that?" I asked.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat roared. I
yanked the hat off my head and rubbed at my ears. The Slytherins weren't cheering
anymore. In fact, they looked rather confused. I smiled apologetically and
walked over to the Hufflepuff table.

"Maybe," I replied. Justin frowned
for a moment, then his eyes widened as realisation dawned on him. He opened his
mouth to speak, but an older student tapped him on the shoulder.

"Later," she said meaningfully. I
frowned. What was going to happen later?

Authors Note: This was inspired by an early
start at work and the complaint of there being too many 'American Exchange
Students' fics. So I wrote a story about the anti-Mary Sue. Or is that an
inverse Mary Sue? I really should stop doing my maths revision while writing
fanfic.

If you're curious about the full story about
Selfinsertion's birth, email me!

So, should I continue? Review me! Even if it's
to tell me what you last ate, or that you hate cucumber, I don't mind. Flames
are fun too.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.